Sick
by Blackat81
Summary: Mad Mod. He's back. He's captured one titan. Only one titan will give him power to bring the whole team down. Ain't tha' right, my duckies?
1. Chapter 1

**Sick.**

**Summary: Mad Mod is on the loose again, complete with his young looks and controlling cane, but this time he only had to capture one titan. Only one would give him power to bring the rest of them down.**

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**1**

She hated the black and the white, the ever changing colours against each other, the way in which she could no longer see the sky anymore, or breathe the fresh air that she knew lingered only just outside the walls. She hated the clothes, the clingy dullness of them so unlike anything she had ever seen nor worn. She hated the way she was forced to wear them, parade them around like she was some sort of human doll.

But she could stand all of these things.

What she hated most was him.

"I know wha' he wants most. I know how to bring down Robin an' his 'ittle friends, and I know which one of 'em he'll be missin' ov'a all the others." He had been so close to her, closer than she had let any person, good or bad, get to her before. And she loathed the way her struggling made him grin even wider.

"Care to take a guess, my duckie?" Closer still.

"You will leave my friends alone! You will not harm Robin!"

"Tsk tsk, backtalkin' the teacher gets studen' nowhere!"

It was then that she knew not of any other pain before. The searing, violent rush through her body made her bones shiver and her head suddenly split in crushing pain, her arms beginning to grow limp at her sides, the restrains easing as they did so. It was too easy. He had the stronger power over her, and she knew it. And yet all that power came from...

Days had passed since then. But she still remembered it clearly. It was hard to forget.

She had awoken mere hours afterwards, more pain rushing into her head as she tried to move. She waited a few moments, then gently lifted a hand, surprised that she had not been restrained. Slowly opening her eyes she found that she was contained in a bright, white room, various chairs dotting the seemingly endless, stretching walls, their black fabric stark against the crisp white. She gently pressed a hand down. Soft. She lifted her head cautiously, the pain now numbing somewhat, and looked down to where her hand lay.

A bed. White.

Her eyes grew wide, then her brow began to furrow, a thought crossing her mind oddly. He had been charitable enough to leave her in a room, and one with such luxuries as a soft bed?

She had lifted her upper torso now, swinging her legs carefully over the side of the bed, standing slowly but surely after she did so. Her head had begun to clear now, the pain only dull and throbbing slightly. Looking around the room she found it to be not as big as she thought; the walls merely ended a few feet away from her, and the chairs were not numbered as nearly as many. Catiously, she walked around the room, her hand touching the smooth surface of the walls as she did so. When she had made a complete circle, ending up back at the bed, she noted somewhat anxiously that there had been no clear exit. Was she contained within this room forever?

The moment the thought began crossing her mind a sudden jolt of pain throbbed through her head again, a gasp escaping from her lips. She doubled over as it surged through her, her arm reaching out for the bed that lay just behind her form. Grasping the material of the cover tightly she moved herself over to it, collapsing onto the soft warmth, another gasp emitting from her.

"You." Through gritted teeth she spoke out into the room, her voice echoing, bouncing off the walls. "You are behind this - " She gasped again, her hand flying up to her forehead in reaction. " - Pain!" The word was drawn out, it's meaning fully realised.

"Quite the contrary, duckie!" The all too familar voice chucked in reply, seeming to be mere meters away from her. But that was impossible; there had been no one else in the room, and especially not -

"Anytime you wan' it to stop, poppet. Jus' say the word." He was here. She felt his breath against her ear, a sick feeling washing over her. She shuddered, her breath raggered as she breathed out.

A silence passed between the two, not a single sound coursing through the crisp room.

"What is - " Another gasp. " - The word you speak of." It was not a question she posed to him; a demand, anything to stop the pain and clear her head for at least just a few moments. She had not tried any of her powers in fear that something far worse would be done to her, but if they still worked she might have a chance. Might.

She could feel his sick grin behind her, the cold eyes boring into her back, thankful she had burried her head into the warmth of the covers.

"No' a word, more like a - " He paused. " - _phrase_ of sorts."

She gave a growl of anger, her form curling up even more on the white, stark bed. "You will tell me!" Her voice was slightly muffled, but there was no denying the need behind it. She couldn't stand it much longer, and not only the pain. She hated how she could feel his form lingering over the bed, the smug look splayed across his face. What had made him so angry to have waged an attack on herself and her friends she did not know, but she would not give him the satisfaction of control over her much longer.

"Give yourself ov'a to me, an' I promise this - " Her skin began to prickle as she felt a cold finger pass itself over her forehead; a seemingly innoccent gesture, but not one that didn't make her shudder in rupulsion. It was soon gone though and another chuckle escaped the lips of the man above her. " - will be no more. How's abou' it, my pet?"

Give herself? The term was not foreign to her, she had almost been betrothed to a man back home and she certaintly knew the feeling, but this was different. This didn't concern him wanting who she was, or perhaps even the way she looked, it was a matter of her life. And even to a greater extent, the lives of her friends. She would never endanger them...but perhaps he would end her life if she did not comply to his rules? She could not think straight under the searing pain in her forehead, and he of course could -

"I accept." She could not believe the words had escaped her mouth, but as soon as she had said them she felt the pain melting away, her body relaxing into it's normality. In all but a few moments the pain had completely gone. Her eyes fluttered open and adjusted slowly to her surroundings, preparing to see a dark figure looming above her. But there was nothing there. Just the white room. Exactly the same as before.

Sans a black and white outfit folded perfectly onto a chair.

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	2. Chapter 2

_((Thank you very much for the reviews, everyone! I didn't expect so many so fast; I really did write this story in the first place because I couldn't find any good Mad Mod fics that potrayed him more than just a comic character. I hope you enjoy the second chapter!))_

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**2**

She did not like the way he scrutinized every inch of her, making her turn a slow circle in the clothes he had designed himself. Oh yes, the clothes.

She had found the dress tucked neatly onto the chair, it's black and white checkaboard pattern making her stomach turn as she looked at it. She picked it up tentively, watching it unfold itself. It was short; something to the length of her own skirt, but no seperate parts. Two giant squares of black against ones of white on both sides, and a collar with a black, droopy bow tying it neatly off. She eyed it with much distaste; it was not bright and happy like the colours she or her people wore. It reminded her of inclosed spaces and dark rooms. She did not like it all.

Sitting perfectly straight underneath the black chair were a pair of boots not unlike her own, but these were stark white in colour, and had a soft toe and heel. They were not as bad as the dress, she decided. In fact if she wasn't being held captured in a place reminiscent of what her friends called "The 60's", she would've fawned over the boots and bought them for herself. But it was not that circumstance. She had to remind herself that. Every movement would be judged.

Movement.

Flying!

Remembering that he had not said anything about her powers, she dropped the dress, concentrating fully on levitating just above the floor. Her eyes closed in anticipation but -

Nothing happened. Her feet remained solidly on the floor.

Her jaw began to tremble suddenly as her hands curled into tight fists, a flash of anger passing behind her eyes. He had taken her powers, and she had not known. When did it happen. Why did she not feel it.

She hated him.

She suddenly lurched forward, her fists thrashing against the white wall as she cried out in anger.

"YOU ARE A MONSTER! YOU ARE NOT A HUMAN BEING! WHY DO YOU WISH TO - "

She felt it again, the hot breath against her neck that made her hairs stand on end. She stopped, but she did not turn around.

"Wha's the matter, my pet?" A cold hand pressed into her shoulder, making her shudder once more. He was real. He wasn't the old man that had wrinkled Robin like last time, but she did not wish to know where he got his youth back from. Either way she loathed him.

"You took my powers away, why did you do so?" Her voice was shakey, she couldn't steady it.

"Can't 'ave those nasty li'l _side effects_ get in the way, can we?" No sooner had she begun to take a breath to reply she was suddenly turned around, and for the first time since her capture she was face to face with the _capturer._

Auburn coloured hair cut into a long fringe, brushing the tips of equally red eyebrows, seeming to almost spill into the view of cold, dark eyes. Glasses that sat perched on a thin nose, tinted a blue hue that clashed horribly with the red, yet oddly stood out amoung the small features of his face. He was not attractive; she had been so used to the youthful looks of her fellow titans that the man before her seemed impossibly old to her, but she decided that he couldn't be anything older than thirty of the earth years. In place of the normal garish red, white and blue jacket she had reconised as the country of Britain's flag, was a dark blue suit, matched with a stark white collared shirt, the sleeves poking out from under the jacket. She was thankful it wasn't so bright, and even though she prefered the bright, happy colours over the black and whites he had given her, she did not like the red and blues. They were not happy colours when they were worn by him.

She could see him watching her as her eyes flicked over his features, then looked away, not wanting to focus on him anymore. But she could see the smug look splayed across his face. It was not hard to miss.

"Hmm," The hand was lifted off her shoulder, the smug expression replaced with one of thoughtfulness. The man lifted a hand to rub his chin thoughtfully as his eyes looked her up and down. She did not like his stare anymore than his touch, or his grating voice.

"What is it that you wish of me, if you please?" She had settled her tone on something more subdued. Dead, she thought. She would use no emotion with him.

There was no reply from him; she watched as he turned away, tucking a gold cane under his arm as he reached down for the dress, carelessly thrown to the floor in her earlier happiness. That cane. Trying to remember she pressed a hand to her forehead as he bent down to pick the dress up, her mind clouding. Why could she not remember?

"Ah, 'ere we go! I knew it was perfect when I made it, I did! Moddie never makes a mistake!", He had thrust the dress into the air in front of her as if she were wearing it from his perspective, a grin spreading across his face. "Jus' your colour too, love!"

"My...colour?" There was no colour on the dress, just black and white. Black and white were not colours at her home, and she was sure they weren't colours on earth either. She pressed a hand to her chest as her brow furrowed in confusion. Without warning he clapsed the starchy material into her hands, then stepped back, the hand raising to his chin again. She was thankful that she was holding the dress in front of her; she did not think she could stand his gaze had she been just wearing her normal, purple clothes. Suddenly they seemed so different and _revealing_ to the dress hanging tightly in her hands. "Please, are you done with the looking of the dress now?"

"Not 'til I see you wearin' it, my pet!" Slightly heeled shoes clicked across the ground, the clink of the golden cane tapping sharply against the white floor as he came to stop in front of her. "An artist's work is ne'va realised 'till he sees wha' it was intended for, and you'll be wearin' tha' dress come thick or thin, love!" A self assured laugh broke out as a hand came to rest on one of her outstretched arms, the same shiver passing over her skin. She wanted so much to push it away, let him feel the pain he had caused her, but she knew she couldn't. She did not want to feel the pain again, and her powers can become non-exsistant. For now.

"I will wear the dress." Her head sank down to her chest, her hair falling over her face as she couldn't bare to look at him. Satisfaction. That was all he wanted. The satisfaction that he could destroy all of her friends by simply wearing her down, making her submit to the greater power. She would behave for the teacher, but she wouldn't comply to all his rules.

She thought he must be grinning at her again; she could feel it just as before. She didn't dare lift her head though, hoping that perhaps by some chance he would disappear in front of her, and she would find that she wasn't in a white, awful place anymore. But the thought was soon dashed. She felt a cold hand brush away the hair that had fallen into her eyes, tucking it behind one of her ears. Another shudder.

"Can't 'ave my duckie unhappy, aye?" His voice had grown oddly softer, quieter in the small space that lingered between them. She did not like it. Men like him did not act like this. As far as she was concerned, they were nothing more than evil to rid in the world. She looked up and found herself directly under his eye level, his thin frame towering over her own. Her eyes flittered between the white space behind him and his features, not wanting to settle on either one. She hoped this was at close as he was going to get. She felt sick.

As if some great force above had heard her pleading, begging thoughts, he simply stared at her with cold, grey eyes, before straightening up and moving away from her, his cane twisting around once in his hands. "School is no more, love, but you can be sure I'll be expectin' you dressed an' ready before I come back!" A grin was flashed at her before his cane tapped the ground once, the square beneath him moving downwards, his form disappearing into the floor.

It was a few moments before she looked up, the dress still clutched in her hands.

She hated the black and the white.


	3. Chapter 3

_((I decided to shift the focus a bit with this one; get some more insight into Star's situation. But never fear, there is plenty more of Mad Mod in this one! Thanks for the reviews again!))_

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**3**

"Where _is_ she?"

The screen simply remained blank as the question was demanded, not particularly to the machine itself but as a question thrown out to the world. A fist was slammed down in immediate response; the machine crackled and fizzed in reply. There was no answer.

He ran his hand through his hair as his form became limp against the chair, a frustrated groan heaved through his body. It had been three, long days since Starfire had disappeared. Three nights ago she was captured during an ambush attack in the city, her powers rendered useless through the use of gas technique and a heavy set of binds applied to her ankles and wrists. The other titans didn't see it coming; nor did they find out until the battle had ended.

It was Robin who blamed himself the most.

The last days had been spent questioning every villain he knew of, whether the questioning was peaceful or decidedly not was not a qualm to him. He searched every place, every hideout in Jump City, relentlessly and tirelessly. But there was no sign of her. Not a single trace had been found.

It was then that he knew he had only one option to turn to, as much as he hated to admit it.

Batman's computer system.

The highest in technology that he knew of, The Dark Knight had given him a few hours alone with the system, but those precious hours produced nothing. Every villain he typed into the computer was a dead end, none of them displaying the qualities of the attack on Starfire, each of them either too selective or simply too mad to apply the techniques he had heard of. Not one of them could have done it. Even the ones who he had written off as defeated or gone into hiding. It was an impossible attack, done by an equally impossible opponent.

"You're not looking in the right places." He felt a hand place itself on top of the chair, a shadow falling over his form. Robin sighed.

"I've looked _everywhere, _there isn't anywhere else to look!" As if to demonstrate his point he waved a gloved hand at a screen that was displaying the results of various villain hideouts, each one with a cross through them as he went through the list. There was a long pause between the two, the figure behind him choosing to remain silent in his friend's frustration. After a few moments, Robin spoke again, his voice suddenly showing signs of tiredness. "You were my last resort. I didn't know where else to turn. I hoped that maybe..."

"Your thoughts were in the right place. But your mind isn't." The figure shifted coming to stand next to the black chair in which Robin sat. He watched as the cloaked man stared up at the screens. He knew how his mind worked, and that was why Batman respected him, why they made the perfect team. Used to make the perfect team.

He shook his head, pushing himself out of the chair. "Thanks for the use of the computers." It was shot back over his shoulder as he began walking towards the stairs leading out, but a firm hand pressed into his shoulder, holding him back. Robin knew what was coming.

"Let your mind think. Don't let other _thoughts_ try to lead you." And Robin knew he was right. He was always right. It was if the man shrouded in black was the little voice in the back of his head, telling him to start thinking straight, to think logically. But it had been so easy to let his heart do the thinking, and that was why he had let three days pass after her capture.

The hand was released from his shoulder, the shadow moving back towards the computer. He thought of turning back to say something. But he knew the silence was all he needed.

- - - -

She had put the dress on.

It made her hate it even more.

It hung loosely from her, no sleeves covering her arms, and the bow the only thing that tied the top part of it together. There was no mirror in the room and she was thankful for it. She didn't think she could stand seeing herself in the bizzare checkerboard pattern, reminding her of the awful things he had done to her friends through the hypnotic screens that he had made them watch. Still, the dress hung to just above her knees and the boots came to just under them, leaving not much skin on display. It was ugly, but bareable, she thought.

It was just the matter of what she was supposed to do now. She had no idea when he would come back, and he did say he would. She had put the dress on as asked...was she simply supposed to wait in the white coloured room? She sat down on the bed with a sigh as she curled her hair around her shoulder, weaving a hand through it. She could not shake the odd, nervous feeling from the pit of her stomach, if not from the black and the white colours in the room but the way in which he was going about holding her captive. She had expected something to the likes of what had happened last time; swirling walls in which made her mind go blank, restrains clasped tightly around her wrists and legs. But then again, he hadn't done that when Robin was under his guard, even though he had grown wrinkled. It confused her. And she didn't like it.

If he wasn't going to keep her under guard, make sure she was tied back and watch her struggle, then what was he going to do? Did he not want her to suffer? Perhaps suffer in a different way. Yes, the pain in her head had been bad. That was suffering. But he had offered to take it away...and she had accepted. But what had she had accepted? He had never been clear to his meaning, though -

A cold hand suddenly gripped her own, pulling her abruptedly off the soft bed and face to face with the very reason her stomach had been turning with sickness.

" 'Allo love, I see tha' dress 'as found its way onto you! No' bad, no' bad at all." Equally cold eyes scanned her from head to toe just as before, a more admiring look adoring his features this time. How had he gotten here so fast? Her mind was beginning to grow dizzy from the abrupt movement from sitting to standing, and his ability to take her by surprise yet again. She wondered if perhaps he was some sort of advanced hologram like before...but no, she could feel his touch, cold as it was.

"Care for some tea then, my pet?" He had finished looking at the dress while she lost herself in her questioning thoughts, the hand now moving to her arm as it placed it into the crook of his elbow. Oddly, the material of his jacket was soft against her warm flesh, not at all what she expected. But she could feel that the arm that lay beneath it was almost paper thin; he was thinner than she was. Her gaze snapping away from their arms, she bowed her head at him, not wanting to give him the wrong answer. She wasn't even sure she knew what tea was. Was it what Raven liked to drink? Raven. The knot in her stomach suddenly became tighter. She hoped her friends had not been harmed by this man.

" 'Bit quiet for a _no-gooding superhero_, aye? Well no' to worry, Moddie will ge' you chirpin' like a bird!" She watched with confusion as he grinned down at her, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he chuckled. She did not know what to expect out of him next; one moment he was threatening her with her friend's lives, the next he was laughing like he was sharing a joke with her.

She nodded again, hoping she was doing the right thing. But instead of expecting him to walk her off to some other bizzare, white and black room, he made no movement. His eyes had begun looking her over again as a self-knowing smirk curled onto his lips. The smirk was as cold as his gaze. It made her shudder inside. As she blinked, trying to focus her eyes instead on the white space in front of them, she felt that same, cool hand gently touch her face. A finger traced down her cheek and over her jaw until it lay on her neck, making a shiver travel down her spine. She could stand being held captive, but to be touched so closely by one who was not permitted -

"Do not touch me." She moved his hand off her, dropping it to his side. Her eyes glared back at his suddenly surprised gaze, but one that turn back into a smirk soon after.

"A challenge, my duckie."

Without warning her arm was jolted along with his as he pulled them towards a door now opening in the wall, his arm holding on tightly to hers.


	4. Chapter 4

_((Sorry it took a while to get this up, but I'm back on the ball again and ready to write! A bit of a cliff hanger, but I suppose you shall all survive for just a few more days. :P ))_

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**4**

"Robin, I think you should see this. "

"Not now Raven, I told you I wanted to be alone and left in - "

A small box was dropped into his lap, the shadow that had lingered at his doorway now positioned behind his chair. He looked down at the box. It was printed with a black and white checkerboard pattern. And a single word was written flamboyantly upon a stark piece of purple paper sticking to the side of it.

_Starfire._

- - -

They had been sitting in the room for some time now. Fully expecting to see a room like the one of black and white she had been in, her breath had caught in her throat slightly when they had stepped into a room plastered with a giant Union Jack on one side and occupied with lavishly decorated furniture. Lamps hanging from places where she didn't even think lamps could hang were ornate with splashes of red, white and blue, oversized tables that stood out from the loud walls in their white colours sat at various places in the room, but it was what lay in the middle of the room that made her breath escape her.

A large circular table was surrounded by giant, red chairs that seemed to ooze with softness, and a tray laden with tea and food she had never even dreamed of sat comfortably ontop the grand table. It was if half way through somebody had decided to abandon the idea of stark and alienating colours and objects and decide to decorate with the most warm and inviting things she had seen since her capture. It wasn't much; but it had lifted her heart for a small moment.

Then her mind drifted back to reality.

"Hop to it then, love!" A hand lightly pressed into her back and moved her towards the direction of the nearest chair, which she sank down into after almost tripping on the slight level it was sitting at. Almost instantly the warmth of the chair surrounded her, and she leaned back into it, her eyes closing momentarily. It was almost like being back in the tower with her friends.

"Sugar my duckie?" Her eyes snapped open as the question was posed to her. She saw that he had sat down almost directly next to her, choosing not the chair that was across from her postion but the one closest to her form. A single shudder coursed through her. Not close again.

Nodding as politely as she could, she watched as a single cube of sugar was dropped delicately into the white, fragile cup, a spoon stirring it slightly to mix it in. The cup was then placed in front of her and his hand moved away, now preparing tea for himself. As she sat up in the chair she noticed with almost a fleeting pulse of her heart that the cup was not so white and plain as she had once thought, for printed carefully onto the side in purple handwriting was her earth name.

_Starfire_

She reached out a hand to trace the lettering with her finger. Had he done it himself? Or was it simply done with the same ease that he had conjured up various objects to fight against them like last time? It intrigued her, her name so delicately placed upon the white surface of the cup. Never had she seen it written like this before, in such beautiful hand writing. Then she remembered who the hand of the writing belonged to. Her hand snapped back almost instantly as a sudden jolt of contempt wavered in her stomach, the knot tightening. He had captured her against his will. She would not so easily think of him in this way again.

Although she did not want to press her lips to the cold outside of the cup to drink the liquid inside, she did not want to think what would be done to her if she did not do so. Picking it up delicately she sipped at the liquid and was almost surprised at it's dull yet pleasant taste. Perhaps she had thought wrong of Raven's tastes. Before she could catch herself she smiled at the thought of her friend and her different ways, the memory pushing her surroundings out of her mind for a few moments.

"Glad to see my pet isn' so un'appy!" She clenched her eyes shut as she realised that the smile had escaped her, and that he had seen it so obviously displayed on her face.

"I..." Her voice wavered for a few seconds as her eyes slowly opened, a deep breath passing through her form. What could she say? One wrong move and everything could be destroyed. Her friends included. "..am happy to be sharing the tea with you." She silently cursed herself in her people's language as the words passed through her lips, not wanting to believe that she had brought herself to say them. But some things were neccessary. Particuarly when her friend's lives were at danger.

The grin, she could feel it beside her even though she dared not look beyond her tea settling in the white cup. She clenched her teeth as she moved to place the cup and saucer back onto the table, but his cold touch had met hers again. It moved it from her hands and it was settled on the table for her, but no sooner than she had begun to clapse her hands together in fear of perhaps loosing them that his hand had snaked around her own.

"I wan' to show you something." The hot breath was against her neck again as he whispered into her ear. Suddenly she was tugged out of her chair and away from the small table, glancing ahead of her to see him leading her towards the wall with the giant Union Jack displayed on it. It was nothing that she hadn't see before. What was he planning?

As soon as they reached the wall the gold cane was tapped against the floor. All at once the flag had begun to disappear and was replaced by dozens of small screens, each flickering to life as they appeared on the wall.

"This," He spread out an arm towards the screens flamboyantly, shooting a grin back in her direction. " Is the lates' in technology my pet! An' you'll be the firs' to see it in action!" The hand swooped down to a button that had appeared below the many screens, and as he pressed it with the grin still spreading wide on his face, the screen nearest to her flickered over to an image of place she knew all too well.


	5. Chapter 5

_((A new chapter, finally! A little short, but I'm planning something big here. ;))_

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**5**

"Friends." The word left her lips almost silently as the screen focused on an image of Beast Boy and Cyborg, laughing with each other as they sat in the lounge room of the Tower. The knot in her stomach tightened again.

"Wha' do you think, my pet? I had it 'specially se' up jus' for you." A deep chuckle emitted from the man behind her, his cold hand finding hers and pressing it into his.

But she barely felt it. Her eyes were fixated on the screen as she watched her friends, a new figure now passing into view. A figure wearing red, black and green. Robin.

_They weren't looking for her. Robin wasn't looking for her. _Here they were, sitting in the tower like any other ordinary day, like she didn't exist. She did not know how long she had been gone, but it had felt like centuries to her. _They didn't care. He didn't care. _Tears began to well in her eyes as the figures moved around the screen, her thoughts only full of hatred towards her friends. Perhaps she could've bared to see just the two of them laughing with each other, but the thought that Robin was not looking for her sent a shot of pain through her. She had thought at least he would care.

"He does not want me." She suddenly spoke out loud. "He is not looking for me." She began to turn away from the screen, towards the man now grinning beside her. "He..."

She stopped, abruptedly turning towards the screen again. Her form began to shake, her fists clenching again in the anger she had turned towards him before.

"He...DOES NOT LOVE ME!" She lurched towards the screen as her hand freed itself from his grip, no movement made on his part to stop her. Her fists beat at the screen as it flickered on and off in succession, cries of anger and fustration emitting from her lips in her native tongue.

It wasn't long before her form began to tire, collapsing slowly to the ground as she breathed heavily. She stayed there, her chest rising up and down and her hair fallen over her face, A single phrase repeated over and over from her muffled voice. "He..he does not love me. He does..not love me." It was the only thought passing through her mind, filling to the corners of every memory, every rembrance of her friend. It was the only thing that mattered. A tear splashed to the cold, white floor beneath her, and many more began to follow.

"Love." The cold hand lifted her arm up slowly, the work spoken in almost sincerity. Yes, sincerity...warmth. The touch wasn't cold anymore. It didn't make her shiver like before. She let herself be lifted up and into his arms, her head pressed into his shoulder as he walked her towards the door. She was not wanted there. But she was here.

- - -

"...And then, then he said, 'Well aren't you going to go catch it?' " He suddenly burst out laughing as he leant on the bigger form for support, one hand clutched across his stomach. The other form was in equal hysterics and began to wipe a tear from his eye.

"Oh man, that was one joke! I bet I could hear that - " His words barely audiable through his laughter, he was suddenly cut off as another voice pierced through his sentence, silencing the both of them.

" Guys."

The shorter, greener form emitted another giggle, looking up at the cyborg as he clasped his mouth shut. "Sorry." He smiled sheepishly.

Robin stared at the both of them; he couldn't believe that he found them lazing around of all things when the entire team had been sent into lockdown, each using their methods to find any information on the box that had been delivered that day. Didn't they care?

Cyborg caught Robin's look, placing his hands in front of him as his face became serious. "Robin, I know what you're thinking and - "

" - Then why are you doing it?" He was cut off again, this time sending both of them into stony expressions of guilt. Robin looked at them again. They were his friends, but so was Starfire. There were no choices.

With a slight swish of his yellow cape he began to walk away, leaving Beast Boy and Cyborg to only look at his back with guilty expressions.

- - -


	6. Chapter 6

**((This amazing and extraordinary chapter was co-written with my equally so friend Elera; she wrote all of Mod's part, and helped me with the first bit as well! So please give all your wonderful praise to her! She's truely saved this story. XD))**

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**6**

"Pet, I think you should res' 'ere for a bi'." He had taken her to the room of white and black again, moving her gently off his shoulder and towards the bed. Her hair still hung over her face, her head bowed as tears still fell from the tip of nose and eyes. Even when she cried he felt a grin creep onto his face. It wouldn't be too long now.

She sat down on the bed slowly, the image still passing through her mind. It was firmly imprinted there now; there was no denying its truth. He did not love her, and they did not want her. She knew that the friendship had been too good to be true right from the start. She had no place among them.

"No use crying ov'a spil' milk, love." The bed depressed down slightly as she felt him sit beside her, but he made no move to place a hand around her reassuringly. She felt a pang inside of her. "If they don' wan' you, then tha's their loss! They were far too caugh' up in their own _lives_ anyway, eh duckie?"

She sniffed a few tears back as she listened to him speak, the sound of his voice and the warmth of his form close by, making her feel safer in the loss she felt in her mind. Safety. Wasn't that what the humans of earth referred to when they felt lost, confused? She had only known the safety of being with her friends, but now...now that only left a hole in her, making her shiver at the thought. But there had been something about being able to be in the warmth of another form that made her feel good inside again. The warmth of another person that had reassured her when _they_ did not want her.

"...The Mod, I wish to - " She suddenly spoke, her head lifting up. But he cut her off as he smiled down at her.

"Call me Moddie, pet." He spoke low and warmly, making her feel better about wanting to say something, his eyes holding tight to her in their lazy, half-lidded fashion, unblinking and unreadable.

"Mod..dee," She began again, a little hesitant at the strange name. " I wish to...I would like to...that is I am going to.." Inside, she didn't know what to say. She felt something that she could not express in the language, a sort of wanting, _needing _to show that she no longer thought so bad about him. He was the one who showed kindness towards her, made her feel secure and safe when...

"I wish to show my thanks, _friend._" It was then she looked up at him, a smile on her lips as tears began to dry on her cheeks.

For a split instant the villain forgot everything around him: everything he was supposed to do, what he _was_ doing, and who he was with. He had no past, and the future had not happened yet. He had never run into the bratty little teenagers , and as for the one who sat in front of him smiling only for _him_, she was not a child at all. He felt only one thing and he hadn't felt it in a long time. He leant towards her, bridging the gap between them. It wasn't far now, he could feel her warmth breath against his face –

So he began to inhale it, letting the tantalizing warmth surround him in an almost maddening feeling, his eyes looking wildly entertained behind the guise of his blue spectacles. The girl, now fully enveloped in her own emotions, did not seem to notice.

Instead her hands flung around his shoulders in a friend-like embrace, shaking him out of his daze and snapping his eyes open. He practically coughed as the air seemed to suck out of him completely; with it drained the previous moment's madness, a brand of insanity he had not allowed himself to demonstrate for quite some time.

"Thank you, friend." She spoke into his ear, but there was nothing secretive or alluring about it.

He knew that she would be the easiest; if he had known just how easy it would really be the mad man would've choked on his own ecstatic laughter instead of surprise the instant she called him _friend. _

She no longer cared for them, for _him, _but it would take far longer than he expected for complete control.

"Now, now, pet, none of that required!" He replied back with a great simper on his face, his tone laden with mock sincere. It was so over the top, but the young woman was not familiar with all the many inflections of the English language, nor did she have the ability to determine which ones were completely fake.

"My gratitude is enough?" she hoped aloud, her eyes so innocent that it fed his amusement that it almost overwhelmed him. She slowly began to slip her hands away from his shoulders; her trust in him was fragile, but it existed nonetheless. Even on her planet she was considered to be naïve; to her, there was no reason why a person should only pretend to be helpful.

"My 'serfices are free."

Both of his hands suddenly clapped onto one of her own receding ones; she had not even noticed him tucking his cane under his arm. He clasped her hand in his like a loving parent would…but then she noticed that his hands were beginning to squeeze hers extremely hard, her eyes looking down at their hands with an almost painfully curious expression.

"Bu' all Moddie expects is a lil' shu'-eye for 'is pet."

Her hand was becoming numb, but her curiousity was hogging the limelight in her mind. "Shuh…eye…?"

His fingers contorted like paperclips being bent, imperfect and angular, so that now his nails slowly dug into her orange flesh. The smile on his face was wide, and his eyes flickered.

"Sleep!" he said quite loudly, merrily; on that word he suddenly released her hand as though it had been a hot stove, his hands flying in different directions and his arms flaying out. The cane, no longer held to his body, began to drop, but without so much as a thought his left hand caught it and he gave it a cheerful twirl. He gave a very brief laugh and repeated, "Sleep, my duckie! An' feel free to leave the room any time you so choose…my pet doesn' need detention anymore!"

And with a wink he was out the door before she could react.

- - -

Black and white, up and down, all around the room, swaying in the mind's eye like an optical illusion. It wasn't just the realm he had conjured, the realm where she was his hostage. It was the embodiment of his very mind.

The slamming of her door immediately signaled an end to the cheerful, saintly charade he had posed for the girl. His hand immediately flew up into the deep red bob of hair and gave it a fierce combing through with his fingers, his palm kneading against his throbbing head. The Cheshire grin had mutated into a brooding pout.

_What_ had just happened in there? Could it be true that mere moments ago he had felt a long-dead emotion stirred from its grave, and that it had been cued by that little whelp? Her willowy orange form now sported his masterpiece…perhaps that's what spurred it.

He could think of no other name for it but _attraction_.

The mere conjuring of the word made him ill with rage.

But attraction to _what_? No, maybe not attraction. Maybe more of a…gravitational pull. To her warmth that could be possessed by anyone, or maybe to that unusual scent of an alien world, or better still the potential in those wide, hurt, grateful, florescent green eyes. Potential to corrupt and taint. That was something he could feel attraction to…the thought of it was quite delicious.

As he journeyed away from her room the walls and the rooms and the entire space around him shifted and changed as his thoughts did; he wasn't the slightest bit alarmed. He knew they were merely reacting to his emotions…and the emotions were what really snagged his attention.

A wine glass appeared into his hand, raspberry-hued fluid spilled into it from a hole in the wavy ceiling. Without so much as a glance to see what he was holding he took a great swig of it, downing the alcohol in a single shot. Sure, it had no taste at all; his materialization of it was completely half-baked…but all the emotions to be associated with alcohol were all there. The elation, the fury, the burning.

Nonchalantly he flung the glass from his lips and forward into the air, and with a great flourish he violently swung his cane through the air, hitting the glass dead on and smashing it into millions of pieces. The fury in his head was sure to add in the proper sound effect of the shattering of the imaginary glass, as well as gravity to every piece of glass. _Clink, clink, clink._ They collected at his feet.

He gritted his oversized teeth, his overbite permitting only one row of teeth to peer from between his lips.

"I will _NO' _be distracted!" he half-shouted, the sound echoing off the walls.

"For why do you deny me?"

Her sweet voice asked; slowly he looked beyond the blue of his spectacles. There she, no, an illusion of her stood, new wardrobe and all. A perfect replica; those eyes couldn't be any less innocent.

Perhaps he was being pulled into something other than her warmth, her smell, or her eyes. Maybe…he was being pulled into her. It had never happened. Not to him. The idea confused him, and he hated it drastically.

"Bu' it could be so easy," he murmured, drifting toward her. His hand touched her face and he felt what he could only predict was her temperature, her texture. The image of the Titan did not blink, flinch, or rear back.

He could freely smell her now, touch her, stroke that hair of red whose hue rivaled his own. But he merely slid his hand to the back of her head, his hand buried in the roots of her hair. His other hand did not touch her, as if respecting this false being's boundaries.

His eyes became glazed over. A small, seemingly sad smile decorated that overbite now.

"Pet…you make this chum feel…"

He stroked her head from under all that hair, gently, affectionately.

"Wha's the word…?"

His face was sincere, possibly romantic…

_CRUNCH! _Hand latched to skull, crushed it, _SMACK, _cane swung and hit across the face, _FWOOM_, body flung forward, smacked into the nothingness of a wall. It fell and crumpled onto the floor.

"Ah! I jus' remembuhed." His whole face lit up: eyes, toothy smile, spectacles that flashed.

A black heel plunged into a wide, green eye that never blinked, never reacted to the abuse. He turned his foot, digging into the broken flesh.

"You make this chum feel victory."

The heel stopped and gave the lifeless illusion one last bone-shattering kick to the ribs.

"'s fun to play games with yuhself, innit? We know 'ow lovers li'e duckie end up, don' we, pet?"

He screamed with laughter and left the unmoving, wide-eyed creature behind, a new spring in his step.


	7. Chapter 7

**((ATTENTION: I changed this chapter back to how I wrote it originally. Why? Well I wrote the other version because I thought this one was too "dark", but it turned out that the new one was far to fluffy and didn't suit the mood of this fic at all. That and Star seemed to be really OOC, and I already have some trouble with her character so that wasn't good at all. ; I hope you all like this version - it's slightly longer, and Mod is ALOT more creepy. XD))**

**

* * *

**

**7**

"Robin! Rooobin!"

Her voice was so far away, calling his name out over and over. It carried as if a wind blew through the space between them; it grew soft and louder as the breeze picked and fell.

"Star!"

He felt himself call out. His own voice too felt distant. If only he could catch a glimpse of her, but all he saw around him was white, empty space. It was cold, unnerving. Why was he here? Where was she?

He began to run, his breath hitching in his throat as his feet made no sound against the seemingly vacant floor, feeling that with every step he took the distance remained the same.

"Robin!"

It felt closer. Her voice was not so far away. She was nearer.

"Star!"

He called out again, stopping abruptedly as his feet skidded with no sound uttered from the rubber soles. Suddenly a glimpse of red flashed past the corner of his eye, his head instantly twisting around to his left.

Nothing.

"STAR!"

Eyes now darting all around him, his brow creasing in frustration. Why was she doing this?

"Robin."

The black haired boy felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. She had whispered in his ear. He stayed perfectly still, as if a movement would lose the moment forever.

"Robin, I want you to meet my new friend."

The voice was soft, but the sweet and innocent tones in which he knew of Starfire seemed to be non-existent. Instead, it dripped with an almost self-knowing and smug feeling. This was not Star.

"I think you will like him."

Suddenly he felt a cold hand snake around his wrist, her breath on his neck. Inside he felt himself shudder and repulse from the touch, but no sooner had the feeling sunk into him that the hand grabbed him with astonishing strength pulling him around to face the other way.

The hand left his wrist.

It joined another.

Another that belonged to a pale, tall figure, who's own hands clasped around Starfire's waist possessively.

"No."

The word almost soundlessly left his lips, as his head began to shake.

"Yes, Robin. You will love my new friend."

The Starfire in front of him smiled.

"NO!"

Robin suddenly flung himself at her, but the floor beneath him dropped instantly, sending him falling, falling, falling...

"ROBIN!"

With a gasp Robin sat up, his breath staggering, as two hands firmly grasped his shoulders.

"W-what - "

His eyes adjusted to his dark surroundings as a figure moved in front of him, the hands still clasping his shoulders.

"Robin, what just happened?"

Cyborg's voice was full of concern as he stared at his friend, Robin's vision slowly coming together to see the familiar blue and white of the taller teenager.

"Cyborg I - "

He stopped for a moment as his breath finally caught up, but his chest still moved up and down as his eyes looked from left to right, thoughts running through his mind.

"Mad Mod."

Robin looked at Cyborg with entire certainty.

"Mad Mod has Starfire."

* * *

She had awoken some hours later after he - no, her _friend_ - had left her alone, her dreams only full of terrible heartbreak as the scene she had watched replayed over and over in her mind. Somehow, it seemed far too real for her to understand it. But it had happened. And she would never think of Robin again. She had a new home, and this is where she belonged now.

With her new _friend._

She stretched as she moved herself off the bed, her boots unceremonisely thrown to the floor before she fell asleep. She looked at them; they were not as ugly as she once thought. Perhaps, even, she would grow to love them. Afterall, had not her _friend _given them to her?

She smiled.

As she straighten up, her gaze moving across the room, she suddenly noticed two, black doors at the very end of the room. Doors? Had they been there before, and she had simply not noticed? No...she had remembered walking around the whole room before, checking for a way out, and there had been no doors of exit then. Suddenly her mouth formed an "O" shape as she remembered what he had said to her earlier; if she was pleased to, she may leave the room.

Excited at the sudden freedom, she padded softly across the floor to the doors, her hand reaching out to grasp the gold handle of the first door. She would only have a tiny look, she did not need to go anywhere just yet.

She twisted the handle with ease and pulled the door back. Her eyes suddenly grew wide as the room came into view, a small gasp emitting from her lips.

Row upon row of racks of clothing lined the entire room, reds, blues, blacks and whites jumping out at her from every angle as her eyes flicked across each section. Were they all for her? She reached out for the nearest rack, removing a small, white and red checkerboard jacket from it's hanger and quickly putting her arms through it, doing it up. She spotted a long mirror in the center of the room, moving towards it to twirl in the jacket. It was, as the people of earth called it, beautiful! It fit her perfectly, snug around the arms but swinging out around her chest line.

She could not help but emit a squeal of happiness as she clasped her hands together, twirling again in front of the mirror as she watched it move out of the corner of her eye.

A flash of red.

She suddenly stopped, her expression falling.

Red.

She reached up to touch the red panel on her arm as her eyes grew sad, her shoulders slumping at the thought. It had been so easy to be caught up in other things, when she should be..

She looked up. Sad? Is that how he wanted her to feel the emotion?

She was not sad.

Her eyes began to cloud over in pure, neon green as her brow furrowed in anger, her hands clenching into fists. They too began to grow bright green in colour as her rage began to build, her eyes glaring at the red she saw in the mirror.

All at once she lurched at the mirror as a cry of anger pursed through her lips, green starbolts charging through her hands sending the mirror collapsing into thousands of pieces.

But as she began to throw another starbolt at it she abruptedly stopped, her figure hovering in the air.

Hovering. Flying.

Starbolts.

Her eyes grew wide as she floated back down to the ground, the green fading from her eyes and her hands, the anger now forgotten. She had her powers back? She stared at her hands with a new found curiosity, then gazed up at the mirror at her eyes.

Her _friend_ had given them back to her.

"I though' you migh' need them, pe'."

She twisted around as she heard his voice, his figure leaning against the door frame.

She looked at her hands again, then up at her _friend_ now smiling at her, a thought melding in her mind.

"I..."

She paused, thinking for a moment.

"...Do not know how to thank you, friend."

She was faced with uncertainty as emotions washed over her, replacing the anger and excitement from before. It was not like how she felt when he had been kind to her, she knew that the emotion she felt then could be expressed as it was among her people, but now she felt as if a part of her had been returned. She had forgotten, perhaps for a little while that they had been taken from her, but now she realised how much had been missing. It was as if he was giving her the freedom to fight if she wished, or needed to.

But she did not need to fight him.

Not anymore.

"No' to worry, love!" He moved over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking at her from behind, the glint of his blue spectacles shining in the shards of the mirror in front of her. "I'm sure ol' Moddie ca' think of way."

She looked over her shoulder at him, watching as a smile crept across the features she had regarded with much disdain upon their first meeting, and still, underneath everything, did. Something about the way he looked at her...

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind when her shoulders were suddenly twisted around and a hand clasped to her waist, pulling her close to his face so that they were touching nose to nose. She froze, unable to move, as his hot breath breathed down on her.

"In fac', I'm sure I ca' think of dozens of ways..."

The way he gazed - no - _stared_ down at her, his eyes flickering over every inch of her body in view, made her breath stick in her throat, her heart beginning to pump faster.

He was her _friend._

_Friends_ did not do this.

"No."

She suddenly spoke softly, her head shaking in the small space between them. Her tone was full of fear, barely able to form the words in her mind. She watched as he moved back a little, an over-done look of surprise doting his features.

"Wha'?"

His other hand had snaked up to her neck now, making her hands stand on end as it moved under her hair.

"I promise you'll like it, pe'."

A sudden dark, menacing look with a positively leering grin splashed across his face before he pressed his lips to hers, the hand at her waist tugging her forward.

She squirmed and struggled under his grip as his movement took her entire body by surprise, her eyes staying wide open. Her hands pressed against his chest, and in a sudden burst of strength, she pushed him off her, sending him staggering across the room.

"NO!" Her eyes began to glow dangerously as her hands balled into fists, the starbolts flaming up in an instant, but the man now adjusting the blue spectacles back on his nose with, astonishingly, a smirk creeping upon his features once more, began to move towards her again.

"I wouldn' be so sure, love." And with a wave of his ruby-topped cane the girl almost immediately collapsed under her own weight, the green fading promptly from her eyes and hands, now stretched weakly on the floor. She could only emit a feeble gasp as she felt his cold hand tip her chin up.

"I though' my star pupil knew be' ter." His sick, twisted grin curled onto his lips again as she stared up at him, wanting nothing more than to tear it off, along with his pointed, ugly features. "Now, wha' do we say when we've been misbehavin'?"

The hand moved from her chin to cross over his chest over the other, his form towering over her own slumped on the ground.

"I am..." She paused. There had to be a way to stop all this madness. She could not go on like this, not knowing if she was doing the right thing or the wrong thing. The only thing she knew was that she could not bare to have that happen again. He repulsed her; made her shudder inside. She had trusted him for a brief time; but that seemed to be gone. Unless of course...

A plan started molding in her mind as her eyes wildly flickered back and forth across the floor beneath the canopy of her hair. Would it work? Could she bring herself to do it? It would mean the safety of her friends.

"Don' keep teacher waitin', pe'." His voice suddenly penetrated her thoughts and seemed to bring her to her decision suddenly. Getting up slowly, she lifted her head, taking a few moments to straighten up. When she did an almost sly grin planted itself on her face as she lowered her eyelids, looking up at him through them.

"Your student is sorry." She said in the most convincing and sly voice she could manage. "Can she...be forgiven?"

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**_((I'm getting back to the roots of Mad Mod here. It provides a much more interesting perspective on his character, I think.))_**

* * *

**8**

His fingers curled around the large bow, the silky fabric falling from his grip as he watched his creation come to life in the mirror. It was all he could do to keep his hands from touching every inch of the dress; it was perfect. A masterpiece in his eyes. And although he invisioned it on a much _different _body in his mind, he couldn't help but gaze at the one fitting all the right curves and lines of his work.

"It's absolutely _amazing, _Mr Richards!" A hint of a _sly_ smile cheekily looked up at him as his hands planted firmly on the small shoulders. There was a sudden coo of surprise when he did so - hands reaching up to meet his - but his object of desire wasn't the warm flesh that brushed against his own.

"Righ' you are, pe'. " The petite blonde giggled at his words, her eyes flicking up in brief moments trying to get the attention of his blue spectacled ones. A tinge of blush rose in her cheeks as she caught him staring straight back at her, but in the heat of the moment and her rather _young _age she had missed his eyes travelling over every seam dotting the edge of her curves.

"Do you do let poor customers like me in your backroom?" The _sultry_, daring look she gave him seemed to belay her age entirely. She was only seventeen. Then again it was only 1967.

"One rule, luv." " His eyes had moved back up the dress slowly and flickered between hers and the dress a few times. But his focus was unmistakable.

The red grew in the young girl's cheeks even more as her fingers traced over his, another childish giggle emitting from her almost tinkerbell-esque voice.

"What would tha' be, Mr Richards?"

There was a small rustle of fabric as the dark navy of his jacket pressed against the back of her dress.

"You'll be wearin' tha' come thick or thin, my duckie."

* * *

"You do not wish to take it off?" She whispered into his ear.

* * *

She had found herself alone in the room of white once more, the bed still neatly made with it's black and white pillows laid perfectly next to each other.

Not that she wished them to be any other way.

The jacket had been discarded on the floor. But it was the only item of clothing that had been so.

Not that she had planned it any other way.

Her lips still burned hot with kisses she had not wanted to give.

She had been saving them for a bird dressed in red and green.

* * *

In a room where the contents shifted and changed with the flucuating mood of it's creator, a red-bobbed man sat grinning at a screen. On one was an image of four teenage _brats _searching for their lost member.

On the other was his new posession.


End file.
